


Braver, Stronger, Smarter

by Ellie5192



Series: Two Birds [13]
Category: E/R (1984)
Genre: F/M, and crying babies, and tummy aches, midnight feedings, oh my
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 11:47:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie5192/pseuds/Ellie5192
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think”. – Winnie The Pooh,  A.A Milne</p>
            </blockquote>





	Braver, Stronger, Smarter

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know, this story is like the poor rejected ugly stepchild. I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll get better at posting. To everyone still interested, and to those who continue to come back, a million and one thank-you’s. Your support is everything to me.

**_Braver, Stronger, Smarter_ **

He groans and goes to roll over, the clock absently telling him it’s almost two in the morning.

“No, no, I got her” she whispers, placing a soft hand on his shoulder before he can move. “Go back to sleep, you have a shift tomorrow”

He just nods and hums, rolling over to at least face her and watch half-heartedly in the dark. The crib is on Eve’s side of the bed, the adjustable side permanently half-down while Rachel is too young for it to matter. At two and a half months, people – their sisters, a couple of girlfriends, his great aunt (dear lord) – keep asking when she’ll be moved into the nursery that’s all set up across the hall.

He and Eve keep saying ‘when she’s ready’, which is partially true, but contains the caveat ‘when Eve thinks it’s time’. As doctors, people don’t question them too much, but Howard is getting sick of the subtle hints and the passive comments about spoiling their infant. At her age, Rachel can hardly be spoiled by anything but a dirty diaper. She’s such a placid thing, and managed to avoid the colic or fussiness that all the books warn about. She’d found her sleep at two months, and she’s gaining weight like crazy. She’s certainly the happiest baby he’s ever seen. As far as Howard is concerned, she deserves a little spoiling.

It’s not the norm, he knows, or if it is then not many people are fessing up, but he and Eve decided to run this whole experience on their guts and her mother’s instincts, free of the countless parenting guides and methods, help books and video tapes. They have enough medical knowledge between them to not screw up too badly, and he has done this twice before. He doesn’t think keeping the crib by the bed a little while longer is going to ruin much, especially as it means Eve can easily sit up, collect the baby, and lay back down, all without losing her blankets.  

She lies on her side and settles Rachel quietly between them on the mattress, pulling down her tank top enough that the baby latches on to her bottom breast and settles in for her regular night feed. Eve’s worked some boob routine that always allows for that comfortable position for night feeds, where she can relax in bed until Rachel has her fill. Sometimes Howard likes to watch, just because they both look so content; he won’t completely fall asleep again until the baby is safely back in her crib anyway.

He loves to quietly watch his girls as they do their thing, conscious that it won’t always be like this. Before long, Rachel will be sleeping all night; she’ll be walking, then talking; she’ll be at daycare and school, and he and Eve will be at work, and they won’t have these private moments, just the three of them in the bed, half awake.

“Come on lazy, you’re only half done” whispers Eve a while later, prodding at her breast to coax Rachel to continue. But apparently she’s decided she’s about done for the night, because she is practically snoring before Eve even pulls her nipple from her mouth. “Oh, you little terror, I’ll have to pump that one tomorrow now” she mutters, pulling her tank top back up.

She sits up and puts Rachel on her shoulder, and no sooner has she started rubbing her back than Rachel lets out an almighty wail, her fist flailing in the air.

Eve coos, and bounces her a little, and pats her bum, but she cries on and on, getting louder and louder. “Oh, my sweet girl, what’s wrong, what is it” sing-songs Eve, standing from the bed to rock on the spot, still lightly bouncing.

The bedroom door is closed so that Jenny is never disturbed, so they aren’t concerned about the noise, but it’s so unlike their baby to be so upset and restless in the night. Howard is fully awake and watching, and after a while he gets up too.

He holds out his hands and Eve passes him the squirmy bundle, her hand still rubbing the baby’s back when she’s in Howard’s arms. He has a knack with her, whenever she’s inconsolable, and it’s unusual for it not to work tonight too. Rachel is simply beside herself, and Eve checks her for a temperature and finds none.

“What is it, my baby girl, what’s the matter” says Howard, moving to the bed. He lays her flat to check her tummy, and that seems to make her cry louder, but after a quick exam he doesn’t think it’s an obstruction or anything else sinister. Eve looks on from behind him, worried if only because Rachel is the easiest sleeper and she never normally complains after a meal. This is so unusual, and maybe they’ve been lucky to avoid any tantrums thus far, but she just wants her to stop crying because it’s making her upset.

“This is not like her” says Eve, pleading to him with her gaze, asking him what is happening. She tries to think if she did something wrong – if anything was different today – but after so many weeks, the days just bleed into each other. “There was nothing wrong before this” she adds. She doesn’t think Howard would blame her or anything of the sort, but if he has all the information then it’s better. She’s still running on new-mother sleep; she’s still a bit foggy, despite how easy Rachel is.  

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her” he replies in a baby voice, bouncing her again, concerned but not overly so. David had terrible colic as a baby and Jenny went through a phase of under-eating; compared to the stress of those two, this is barely a minor crisis.

“Check her stomach again” says Eve, for lack of anything better to do.

Rachel squeals as she’s placed back on the bed, her tummy lightly poked and prodded by both her parents. They meet each other’s eyes and Howard shrugs – it’s not hard, and no particular spot hurts her more, and they can’t feel any inflammation.

“She does seem more distressed when she’s lying down” says Eve. Howard lets her pick her up again, even though she’s obviously a bit uncomfortable and doesn’t know how to fix it. He knows that Eve is a logical kind of person; she would never just accept that Rachel is being fussy and having a moment. To her, there must be an answer, and she takes it upon herself to shoulder the blame for not finding it.

“Tell your Mama what’s wrong, baby, what is it” she pleads, patting her back again. “Is it wind, maybe?”

“It could be” answers Howard. “It might just be a belly ache. Maybe that’s why she didn’t finish her dinner”

“Oh, my girl, is your tummy sore… how can I help her, do you think maybe laying her on her tummy might help? What if we put her legs a little higher, you know, push the wind right out”

He almost laughs at her earnest expression as she gestures her hand towards Rachel’s bum, like wafting. Howard sits on the bed and gesture for her to place Rachel over his knees on her stomach, rubbing her back lightly. Her whimpers settle a bit, but start again when Howard goes to pick her up, and so he leaves her on his lap as Eve sits next to him, rubbing Rachel’s back.

“I think it’s just a belly ache, it will pass soon”

“Are you sure?”

“Eve, relax. Babies have their moments too”

“I know, I know. She’s such a quiet little thing, I’m just worrying”

“You’re her mother, it your job to worry. But look, she’s already settled down a bit and-“

His words are cut off by a very audible pop from within Rachel’s diaper, and a corresponding little burb, and he meets Eve’s eye and they can’t stop themselves from laughing out loud, high and joyful giggles that break the tension. Howard scoops up the baby and places her back against his shoulder, patting her bum again, but the fart and the burb seem to be all she needed to ease her aches, because she’s suddenly quiet and content. Eve can’t stop herself from giggling again as she strokes Rachel’s brow, her little face resting on Howard’s shoulder.

“See?” says Howard. “Just a little gas”

Eve chuckles at him. “You are your father’s daughter” she teases, meeting Howard’s eye when he tries to look offended.

“I hate to break it to you sweetheart, but your bugle butt can wake the dead”

She opens her mouth in shock and outrage. “I do not”

“You do to. In your sleep”

If he weren’t carrying such precious cargo she would hit him. “That is not true”

“You better believe it”

He stands up with a grin and places the baby back in Eve’s arms, and then moves quickly to his side of the bed before Eve can exact her revenge. She is ruthless when he doesn’t have his shield.

Eve glares mockingly at him, before turning back to the baby and sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I’ll just see if she wants to finish her dinner now that her tummy isn’t hurting” She pulls the tank top down again and places Rachel’s mouth on her nipple, but her eyes are dropping and her mouth is mostly slack, and she only has a few half-hearted sucks before she falls asleep in Eve’s arms. “I guess not”

She hears Howard chuckle tiredly behind her.

Back where she was almost half an hour earlier – was their little meltdown really only twenty-seven minutes? – she places Rachel in her crib, swaddled tightly just like she likes. Within moments she is lightly snoring, her mouth open in that adorable way babies often do.

With a sigh, Eve rolls back into bed, and into Howard’s waiting arms, wrapping herself around him, her body flush against his. They snuggle against each other, getting comfortable under the blankets, listening to the tiny breaths for a mere foot away.

“I am not the person to have in a crisis, am I?” she whispers.

He rubs her back and kisses her hair, smiling a little. “You’re not used to it, is all. She’s normally such a good little thing. You were right to worry”

“Howard, it was wind. I nearly ran her to the hospital over bad gas”

“Well, sometimes bad gas needs a hospital. You remember that patient we once had, with the crazy clown hair and the lisp?”

She laughs into his shoulder. “He had appendicitis” she giggles.

“Well, you never know. Best to keep a weather eye open”

She grins at him and rocks her head against his shoulder. “I’m grateful you were here as my back-up”

“Always” he mutters tenderly in her hair. “As long as you’ll have me”

“Well, you already put the ring on my finger, and we kind of made a tiny human together – I think you’re stuck with me now”

“Good. The feeling is mutual. And for the record, you would have been fine without me. I know you would have”

She likes that he has such confidence in her, on the rare occasions when she doubts herself. He fast became her confidant, both at work and at home. He is now her greatest ally. She wonders what a younger version of herself would have thought – probably that she was ridiculous for panicking over a tummy ache, and that she was too reliant on a man who might gamble, drink and smoke her money away. A young Eve Sheridan would probably not approve of the life she is living; baby before marriage, ER shift work instead of her own practice, Howard Sheinfeld’s ring on her finger, future step-mother to a teenage son and daughter. 

Oh, would she like to laugh in the face of that younger Eve.

“I love you Howard” she whispers, her fingers playing along his chest.

“I love you too” he mumbles, almost asleep. His hand is heavy on her waist, his breath tickling along the top of her head. She hears Rachel take a sigh in her sleep, and she smiles.

Quite frankly, that disapproving young Eve can kiss her ass. She’s quite content with what she’s got right here.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m always conscious of the time period when writing this story, and do my utmost to make it both relevant and relatable to the mid-80’s. Having not been alive in the 80’s, I am always open to suggestion or rewrite if you notice giant slip-ups. I beg patience and forgiveness, but don’t hesitate to let me know.


End file.
